Settling In
by MadamBiscuit
Summary: Zamasu has just stolen the body of Son Goku and run off to the future timeline with it. Before leaving to find his future self, he takes a moment to shed his old Kai outfit . . . and to do a bit of self-exploration in this new body. (Goku Black solo, hints of Black x Zamasu)


Author's Note: I kept getting ideas for a story that explored what Zamasu may have done in the first hours after acquiring Goku's Body. Just a fun, smutty piece. Don't take it too seriously.

* * *

It was magnificent! The way Son Goku's wife and child screamed in terror as the hand of their husband and father cut them down was unlike anything he'd heard! And they were screaming because of him! In fear of him! Those mortals had experienced first-hand the wrath of a god who was beyond fed-up with mortal ignorance! It was high time they face their consequences!

"More. . ." More, more, he wanted to kill more of them! He could feel immense power coursing through every inch of his veins! His muscles twitched with excitement and strength, his heart pounding so hard in his chest it was almost deafening. What was this strength? How could a mortal possess it? Such strength was only fit for the gods! How foolish was the creator of Saiyans to grant them such a capacity for power? It was wasted on them!

He had to calm himself for now, though. If he wreaked too much havoc here, the god of destruction, Beerus, would surely come after him. This body most likely was not yet strong enough to combat a god of destruction. He needed to find a timeline with a missing god. One where he could test his strength, get his bearings in this new body . . . and also pick up the perfect ally.

Zamasu heaved a heavy sigh as he clenched and unclenched his fists again and again. Yes, that would be the best course of action. He could not allow so much power to cloud his vision and create distraction. There was a very methodical path which must be taken if he was going to succeed in his plan to eradicate the cosmos of mortals. "Heh. . . finally. . . finally it is happening. Finally I can give the universes what they are crying out for." Zamasu ran a hand over his face. . . his new face. It felt so foreign, but his lips curled up into a smirk just the same as they always had. It was okay to show such an expression now. No longer did he have to hide his true face under a look of complacency and false devotion.

Chuckling to himself, he kicked once at the bodies of Son Goku's family before he called upon the power of the Time Ring to search through the various timelines. Surely one of them was missing a god of destruction somewhere.

Sure enough, he found it. There was a timeline in which this very universe, universe 7, was missing its god of destruction. Son Goku had also perished in this timeline. In fact, upon his arrival on the planet Earth he could see that quite a bit of the population had long since been wiped out. The civilizations were in shambles from some apparent battle. Not that it really mattered to him what had happened to it. He couldn't sense any particularly powerful entity, so whatever had caused such chaos was no longer around.

"Perfect. I can make this my base to return to in between exterminations." He needed to take some time to plot out his journey and for that reason he needed a place where he didn't need to fear any powerful opponents. "Somewhere secluded . . . this planet has a wide variety of ecosystems." He flew above the landscape, studying the rubble beneath him and the nature that was hidden by it. The base planet was beautiful, but was horribly marred by what the mortals had done to it. What a mess. "Soon . . . soon I will free you from this parasite. I hear your cries." He spoke to the planet as though it could hear his reassurances. "Soon enough."

He happened upon a cabin in the middle of the woods. The scenery in the surrounding area was absolutely beautiful and he didn't sense any mortals. Was this building abandoned? It was still filled with furniture and wasn't at all in disarray. It was as though the humans who once occupied the cabin had just got up and left one day. Did they even take anything? There were dishes in the cabinets, old food in the refrigerator . . . would they come back soon? "No matter. This place belongs to me, now." He smirked as he wandered through the various rooms, inspecting each of them to make sure they were to his liking.

"It's a bit disgusting to sleep on linens the humans had used, but it's either that or sleep on the floor." He scrunched his face as he stepped into the largest bedroom in the cabin. The bed was a good size and looked comfortable enough. At least whoever left this place had the sense to make the bed. "The home itself is fairly clean. . ." As he peered around, his eyes caught the mirror on the far wall of the room. It was attached to a chest of drawers that came up to about hip level or so. "Ah, that startled me for a moment." Chuckling, he ran a hand over his new face just like before and approached the mirror for a better look.

"Son Goku. . ." He smirked at the mirror and reached out to touch the foreign reflection. "No, this body and this face are that of Zamasu now." Again he laughed, his smirk stretching into a full grin as he recalled the look on the faces of Goku's wife and child just before he cut them down. "That was only the beginning, but already I feel fantastic. How will it feel, then, to slaughter them by the millions? The billions?" His voice cracked a bit as his pulse began to race. "No, I cannot let myself get too carried away. I must first eliminate the Kaioshin to get rid of the gods of destruction. The mortals must wait."

The Kaioshin . . . to think his first targets would be members of his own race. "I will take an embarrassing amount of pleasure in cutting them down. Ah, I guess I get to kill Gowasu for a second time." His eyes widened briefly, "And I can free the me of this timeline. The perfect ally . . . just wait a little longer." He didn't even question whether or not his future self would join his cause. This pitiful version of himself did not have a means out of his bondage. He would sever those ties and free him from such a horrible fate.

Zamasu tugged at the sash around his waist, "These clothes are not befitting of a body like this." He tore the sash away and threw it aside, ripping off the overcoat shortly thereafter. Removing it felt good, like he was shedding his former identity along with the cloth. "Something more like. . . what Son Goku wore would be more appropriate. Those colors, though. . . I'm sick of bright colors." He pulled the violet shirt up and over his head, but quickly came to a halt as his eyes trailed over the powerful muscles hidden beneath. His arms were bulky, as was his chest. What a powerful body.

"Imagine what I can do with this body, whose ability to grow in power is seemingly limitless." He traced over the muscles with one of his fingers. It felt strange and at first he felt disgusted with himself, but. . . what was wrong with touching his own body? No longer did this form belong to a mortal, but rather to a god! This body had thus become divine the moment he'd taken it. "These arms could easily hold anyone down. Ahhhh, just imagine the look of pure terror that will be plastered on their faces just before I end their short lives. The way they'll scream, the way they'll beg me to spare them. . ." He felt a chill run down the length of his spine. His whole body was practically tingling with anticipation of what all was to come.

As he removed his boots and prepared to remove his pants, he noticed that there was some kind of bulge at the front now where there had previously been nothing. "What is this?" Furrowing his brows, Zamasu carefully pulled his pants down just enough to see what was going on. "Huh. . ." The penis. It was very strange to know he was staring at a mortal's penis, but he had to remind himself that this was his now. It wasn't the first he'd seen, of course. The male Kais had them as well, but. . . they were soft and hung down. Why was this one standing up on its own? It hadn't been like that all along – he would most definitely have noticed that by now. Stranger still, he felt incredibly compelled to touch it. It was like this body knew what needed to be done and was urging him to go along with those instincts.

Hesitant, Zamasu first touched the head, gasping when a small wave of pleasure trailed from the tip all the way through his body. "What is this feeling?" More intrigued than disturbed, he touched it again, this time rubbing at it a bit. This action tore a long, involuntary moan from his lips, causing him to snap his mouth shut in shock. That had felt even better! Had his previous body been capable of feeling such pleasure? "How. . . how filthy." And yet he found himself wrapping his hand around the length of it this time, squeezing a bit as he began to move his hand up and down along it. It felt so good. Never in all of his years of living had he experienced anything quite like this. "No wonder mortals desire to mate with one another . . . if it feels like this."

Releasing his hold on himself, he shakily removed his pants the rest of the way and kicked them aside. Fully undressed now, Zamasu leaned his hands on the dresser to look at himself again in the mirror. He was shaking a bit now from the discovery of this feeling. "How disgusting . . . giving in to such mortal urges. What use does a god have for such things?" But the words leaving his lips didn't reflect how he really felt about it. Who was he trying to convince? No one was around to see him commit such a dirty act and as he had said before, this body was now divine since it belonged to him. Was it not, then, divine to do such a thing? To pleasure himself? What was wrong with a god finding pleasure by his own hand?

He looked down at himself again, at the firm length that practically begged to be touched with the way it twitched. "It's only filthy for the mortals to do such things . . ." Surely he was not wrong in that manner of thinking.

Once more, the god wrapped his right hand around the length, his left hand still holding onto the dresser as though it were the only thing keeping him standing right now. His legs felt weak with desire, moreso when he began to move his hand. "Haaa. . . ahhh. . . why does. . . something like this . . . feel so good?" It was meant to be inside another person, correct? That must feel even better than this. Even if it was someone else's hand . . . or mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. What kinds of things were crossing his mind now? As if he would allow another being to touch him in such a way! Unless. . .

Zamasu's eyes snapped open and he stared at his reflection. This face that was so new to him. This skin, this body, these hands. . . His face was so red now. His cheeks and nose were a deep scarlet, his mouth slightly agape with heavy panting as he pleasured himself. "This body is mine." He could do whatever he wished with it.

Reluctantly, he released his grip on the dresser with his left hand so he could touch one of the pink nubs on his chest that was much more firm now than it had been just moments ago. Was this because his body was being pleasured? Was this yet another result of that? What else changed with the Saiyan body when it felt this way? "Haaaa. . ." He let out a long moan, thankful to be alone in such a moment of humiliating weakness. Something about touching his chest while he stroked himself felt even more exciting. He swirled his finger around the nipple before pinching at the skin. It was as though his hands knew precisely what they needed to do in such a situation. How vulgar, to know such movements . . .

. . . and yet, how wonderful.

"Just what has this body done in its brief existence?" It was best not to think about it. Instead, he trailed his hand down the powerful abdominal muscles, his fingers sliding into every crevice and admiring the smooth, taut skin. He dipped his middle finger into his navel before sliding his hand back up to his chest. It felt so good to have a hand on his skin while the other pleasured him. If only they weren't his own hands doing such things. "Ahh. . . hnn. . ." His lips longed to call out to someone and he wasn't certain why. What was this urge? Or was it more of an instinct? These hands touching him should not be his own, but rather should be those of another, someone to share in this pleasure with.

"Zamasu. . ." He said his own name, the only name he could let roll off his tongue without making him gag. A most beautiful and perfect name. "Zamasu. . ." He closed his eyes, this time imagining his former appearance. Smooth green skin, gentle silver eyes, soft white hair. . . and his voice was much nicer than that of Son Goku, was it not? "Ahh-ahh. . ." He imagined those inexperienced hands wandering over him, exploring the powerful muscles of his new body. His eyes would wander over him with fierce curiosity. Would he touch him like this? His self from this timeline would surely become his ally, but would he do this? Just like this?

"His hand, or. . . his mouth, or. . . or maybe even. . ." Zamasu released a shuddered breath as he opened his eyes once more so he could instead move to the bed. His legs were shaking wildly and he'd surely collapse to the floor if he didn't lie down soon.

Lying on his back, he resumed stroking himself at an agonizingly-slow pace. If he moved too quickly, he'd lose himself in the pleasure. At the same time, he wanted to go faster and feel more. He wanted more warmth, too. Something about the way the warmth left his cock as his hand moved away made him frustrated. He wanted to bury himself in something hot and tight, something that would wrap around him and practically suck him in as he thrust deeply inside.

Zamasu squeezed his eyes closed again. How foul. How vulgar. How . . . _mortal_ of him to think about such things. Was this a side effect of the body? Perhaps just that. He needed to satisfy this intense feeling now and maybe the urges would subside. How dare he think of his other self in such a way? He could never speak of this moment to him or to anyone, lest they see him as disgusting and inferior.

For now, however, this would have to do. He needed to. . . to what? What was it that he was working toward? It was like he knew there was some kind of 'ending' to this activity, but what kind of end would it be? Releasing a ragged breath, the god rolled onto his side before moving his hand along his length once more. This time, however, he began instinctively thrusting his hips as well, groaning in frustration that the thrusting did nothing to please him further. He needed to be inside of something, no . . . some_one_.

"Zamasu." Again he said his own name, the name of his future self whom he would soon recruit. "Ahh, Zamasu. . ." He imagined his counterpart beneath him, legs spread, arms above his head, a deep red stain across his cheeks, his nose, his ears. . . those beautiful silver eyes looking into his own. What a flawless, divine form. Such beauty could only belong to a god. Zamasu begged for forgiveness in his thoughts as he pleasured himself to his old image. If only he could have him here now, to bury himself deep inside of him _now_.

What kind of sounds would he make? What did his voice really sound like? He couldn't hear that voice in his imagination. Zamasu's mouth would open and close, but no noise escaped him. So frustrating, but his face was enough. That face that begged him for more. Such a divine union between gods would be the most supreme ecstasy. Had his future self learned to pleasure himself in such a way?

"Hahh more. . . I want more. . ." He moved his hand faster along his length, his breathing growing more labored as his heart raced faster still. Zamasu turned his head more to bite into the pillow, though in his mind he was biting the ear of his counterpart. Would he moan if he did that? Moan right into his ear with a most beautiful voice? He wanted to hear it. For now, he had only the sounds of his own moaning and panting and the creaking of an otherwise-empty bed.

The sounds leaving his own mouth were more embarrassing than anything he'd ever experienced, and yet he couldn't stop them at all. His mind felt foggy, like his limbs and hips were all moving on their own now and he was simply along for the ride. His body knew what felt good and what needed to be done to reach whatever climax was at the end of this venture. "Haa, haa. . . Zamasu. . ." He swallowed hard and licked his lips, instinctively biting hard on the pillow as he rolled a bit more so the tip of his cock brushed against the comforter on the bed. The friction elicited a long growl from deep in his throat as his hand moved more erratically. "Yes. . . that's it. . ."

Zamasu thrust his hips, effectively grinding on the bed as his hand worked as fast as it physically could. His whole body was moving in ways that seemed unnatural, but he was powerless to stop it now. Zamasu simply let the body do whatever it wanted to do, his hand and hips moving feverishly as the other hand snuck up to grab at the powerful, rippling muscles of his chest and abs. This was his body. This was his perfect, powerful body. The body he'd use to decimate all mortals across the cosmos with his future self at his side.

Unstoppable. Inevitable. Omnipotent.

Zamasu let out a long moan, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. He'd finally reached the peak of his pleasure and felt a wave of relief roll over him as his hips gave a few more tired thrusts and then finally stopped. The feeling was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before and his mind was still trying to process what all had just happened. It was like he was floating even though he was still on the bed. Even when he opened his eyes, the edges were foggy and white, as though he was in a dream-like state.

". . . what . . ." He couldn't even form the question. What the hell was that? How did it all come to such a height and then dissipate in a euphoric manner? He'd never really studied mating practices of mortals because they seemed so vulgar. Perhaps he shouldn't have overlooked it.

Zamasu brought his hand up to rub at his face, trying to correct his vision . . . but as he rubbed his palm over his cheeks and nose, he quickly felt something . . . wet? Sticky? A combination of the two?

Yanking his hand away in a hurry, he opened his eyes wide upon seeing something milky-white spread thin on his palm and fingers as well as on his face, no doubt. "What is . . . is this . . .?" Was this what the male mortals used to impregnate the females? His hand was shaking, but he wasn't sure if it was the aftermath of what he'd just done or disgust from knowing he had human semen on his hand and face. "Disgusting . . . absolutely repulsive!"

Zamasu got up quickly from the bed, nearly falling from his trembling legs, and stumbled toward the bathroom to wash his face. Luckily for him, the water was still running to the house. Just how long had this place been empty? The spoiled food he saw earlier indicated it had at least been several weeks, but it may have been longer. No matter. Even if the mortals who lived in this cabin returned, he would take great pleasure in slaughtering them.

"The bodies will really pile up, won't they?" He chuckled low to himself before looking at his face in the bathroom mirror. The front strands of his hair were wet, so he reached up to slick them back up with the rest of it. So strange, this Saiyan hair. "Serve me well, my new body. Eliminate all mortal life which soils the foundations of nature itself. Nature will be free once more . . . free to heal, free to reclaim its territory . . . free forever under my watchful eyes." Zamasu reached toward his refection, running his fingers across it as if looking fondly at a photograph.

" . . . but first . . . I must go and free my future self from his mundane life." The corners of his lips curled into a smirk as he recalled his brief fantasies from only moments ago. "Join me, Zamasu. Stay by my side, Zamasu."

He backed away from the sink, eying his nude body in the mirror as he raised a hand to manifest something new to wear. Similar to that of Son Goku, but more suitable to his color preferences. Black pants, black shirt, dark gray gi . . . and accented with a beautiful red band around the waist. Yes, this was much more appropriate. "Perfect . . . it is like the darkness that will befall the cosmos as I stain it with mortal blood . . . though from the ashes, order and justice will rise. All will be right. All will be as it always should have been."

Satisfied and feeling calm once more, Zamasu readied himself to use the time ring and this time set his sights on Universe 10. "Let the revolution begin."


End file.
